


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by gingertintedglasses



Series: One Shots [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky has an emotional support dog, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mentions of PTSD, Proposals, Stucky Secret Santa 2016, background/minor Monty/Peggy, background/minor Sam/Maria, his name really was Dugan, jewish bucky, like vague mentions, mentions of Morita Monty Peggy Becca Natasha Maria, my scottie dog makes an appearance in this story sorry not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9050350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingertintedglasses/pseuds/gingertintedglasses
Summary: Bucky and his dog stumble upon a lonely-looking man one winter's night.  That man turns out to be the best thing that happens to them.  (They turn out to be the best thing to happen to that man).  Mariah Carey sings, cuteness ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @pumpkinspicedbarnes on Tumblr for the Stucky Secret Santa 2016!

**Year One**

It was his first winter in New York since he’d been home and Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to go out unless he had to, but Dugan was whining at the door and he couldn’t deny the dog his walk any more than he could deny that it was really fucking cute when he got snowballs in his Scottie dog beard.

It had been six months since his last tour and he still wasn’t used to the cold weather again.   It had been six months, and he was used to waking up in a cold sweat (still). It had been six months, and he was getting used to having an emotional support dog (and liking it more than he wanted to admit).

So he bundled them both up (Dugan looked ridiculously adorable in the plaid jacket, sue him for buying it) and resigned himself to an hour of shuffling along beside his dog while Dugan sniffed at snowdrifts.

Most of the shops were closed but the window displays were alight and after a quick stop for a peppermint hot cocoa and a tiny cup of whipped cream for Digs, Bucky was content to stroll along beside his terrier while the dog sniffed his way to having a pile of snow atop his nose.

Three blocks and half an hour later and Bucky could see a man sitting on a bench facing the small park across the street. He was alone and bundled up but the closer Bucky got, the sadder he could see the man’s face was. He ducked into the Starbucks (there really was one on every corner and for once Bucky was glad) before he could second-guess himself.

He sat down next to the man in silence, new cup extended.

“What is it?” The man’s voice was quiet, but sounded raw.

“Cocoa. You looked like you could use something to warm you up.” Bucky kept his voice low, too, and gave Dugan enough lead to sniff around the bench.

“Thanks.” The man picked at the paper cup after taking a sip.

They sat in silence for several minutes, Bucky looking at the lights in the park and the man –well, he didn’t know. Staring at the snow on his boots, from what Bucky could tell in his peripherals.

“What’re you doing here?” The man didn’t sound accusatory, but there was something –hesitant, Bucky supposed.

Bucky thought back to the first month home, when he didn’t want to talk to anyone but he didn’t want to be by himself.

“Sometimes it’s easier to be alone with someone else, you know?”

Bucky heard the breathing beside him hitch, and then a rough, soft laugh. “Yeah. –Who’s this?”

Dugan was sniffing the man’s boots with a meticulousness that suggested they were made of bacon.

“That’s Dugan. He’s-“ Bucky hesitated a moment. He was working on being more open. And this guy seemed like maybe he’d appreciate the gesture. “-He’s my support dog. And bacon locator extraordinaire.”

The man laughed quietly and leaned down to pet Dugan, who leaned into the touch and grumbled his happiness at the attention.

“He’s cute.” The man met Bucky’s eyes. “I’m Steve.”

“Bucky.”

Steve hesitated several moments before apparently finding whatever it was he was looking for in Bucky’s features. “Can I …talk to you?”

“Sure thing, pal.” 

And Steve did. He talked about coming home from _his_ latest tour and having to spend his first Christmas Stateside alone (he joined up once his mother passed; it’d pay for school, he wanted to protect those that couldn’t protect themselves; he didn’t want to have to be home to miss his mother at the holidays). He talked about settling back in and how everyone was always checking in and how much he appreciated it. How much he felt stifled by it and felt like he was expected to just be _fine_.

He talked about how he’d hung out with his old friends but felt like he didn’t really fit, not anymore, and how he’d tried dating but it didn’t really work out for one reason or another and he was just _tired_ and wanted to come to the park his mother had taken him to growing up, thinking it’d make him feel better when it just made him feel more alone.

Steve fell silent and took several slow, ragged breaths in. Bucky took the opportunity to hold his hand out, palm up.

Steve took it. Bucky squeezed gently and just held; Steve squeezed back. He got the sense that Steve didn’t really want to hear reassurances so much as just be reassured.

It was almost ten minutes later when Steve spoke up again. They were still holding hands. “Hey Bucky?”

“Yeah?” 

“I feel like a giant mess right now, so you can say no, but I want to ask for your phone number.”

Bucky squeezed his hand again. “I want to give you my phone number.”

 

 

 

**Year Two**

“So I was thinking maybe you could come by and decorate with me. I know it’s not really your holiday, but—“

“-Steve. You’re celebrating Hanukkah with me. I’d love to celebrate Christmas with you. When should Digs and I come by?”

“…Uh. An hour? I got the tree the other day and it’s all opened up now.”

Bucky laughed. “I can bring take away. Thai?”

“We had Thai the other night. Indian?”

“Perfect. See you in an hour.”

Bucky hastily ordered their favorites from the shop halfway between his and Steve’s (they lived only six blocks from one another, they’d discovered), and the hurried to change.

Since last Christmas they’d spent a lot of time together. Not exactly dating. Not exactly friends. Not exactly rushing into anything. 

Since last month they’d been getting more tactile. Hanging out felt more like unofficial dates and Bucky was going to ask Steve out –officially- soon.

But not tonight. Tonight was for being laid-back and enjoying the run up to the holidays. 2015 was almost over and they’d celebrated Hanukkah together (Bucky loved his Sasquatch socks the best of all of the gifts he’d gotten), and they’d celebrate Christmas together and Bucky would be damned if he didn’t find a way to end up under some mistletoe with Steve.

So he put on his favorite dark wash jeans and stormy-sea-grey sweater under a jacket, leashed up Dugan, and headed out.

By the time he made it to Steve’s, Steve had already strung the lights on the tree and Bucky could hear Nat King Cole playing quietly. Steve’s apartment wasn’t much different or much bigger than Bucky’s own, but there was something decidedly more _homey_ about it; softer edges, or fewer shadows, maybe.

Dugan made himself at home (a dog bed had appeared in Steve’s apartment one day several months ago) while Bucky and Steve tore into the take away.

It was only once they got to decorating (and singing and ridiculous dance moves) that Bucky had to really remind himself that tonight was not the night he was going to ask Steve on a real date. Christmas was important to Steve and he didn’t want to make Steve’s favorite tradition awkward if it turned out Bucky wasn’t Steve’s type.

“…Is this ornament an outhouse with a moose in it?”

Steve laughed. “Yes! I forgot about that one – one of my buddies, Morita –the friend I was an Eagle Scout with- got me that. All the camping, you know.”

Steve had a story for every ornament. The fragile, tiny wooden nativity that had belonged to his mother; the stethoscope that his mother had bought him at the age of fifteen when he was deemed a medical success story (Steve was sick as a kid, he’d said); the clay army boots his Air Force buddy Sam’s daughter had painted for him when he’d taken her to Plaster Fun Time so Sam and his wife Maria could go Christmas shopping. 

“That’s all of them, I think.” Steve gave the Moose in the Outhouse a spot by the old (and sort of creepy-looking) Santa and the small silver wreath of jingle bells.

Bucky tried not to blush, and failed. “Uh, I think –there’s one more.”

Steve turned away from admiring their handiwork hearing the hesitance in Bucky’s voice. “What d’you mean?”

“I sort of – when you were telling me about the tree and the ornaments the other day I kind of –I got an idea, and well.” He rustled through the pockets of the coat he’d tossed by the door and produced a small box wrapped in Hanukkah paper. “Sorry about the dreidels.”

Steve carefully unwrapped a small ornament box, his smile broadening as he turned it right-way-round. “A Scottie dog?”

“Yeah.” Bucky smiled. “I thought Dugan would look good on your tree.”

Steve gave the resin Scottie dog a place of honor on the tree towards the top. “I think he does.” 

Bucky was going to offer to refill their cocoa mugs. Honest.

But. 

But Steve had leaned in and was kissing him and Bucky was so surprised he couldn’t move for several moments. Not long, but long enough for Steve to lean back and grow worried.

“Geez, Buck, I’m –I’m sorry, I thought-“

“-Nope!” Bucky didn’t let him get any farther, reaching out to pull Steve back in so Bucky could participate in the kiss this time.

It was a really great kiss.

“You know.” Steve’s lips were red and bright when they finally pulled apart. “I wasn’t planning on asking you on a date tonight, I had plans for how I wanted to go about it, but I think this is better.”

Bucky felt laughter bubble up inside him and escape past his lips. “I was going to ask _you_. On Tuesday.” 

Steve laughed again and closed the distance between them again for a brief, chaste kiss. “Then take me out, on Tuesday. Anywhere you like.”

 

 

**Year Three**

This was it. Bucky felt it in his bones. He was going to ask Steve to move in with him. Maybe he’d waited a little long considering how long they’d been half-living out of each other’s apartments, but he knew Steve needed time and Bucky knew _he_ needed time. And now Bucky was headed to meet Steve for a walk through the park between their apartments to see the lights before heading into the city proper to see the tree at Rockefeller.

It was so cold Bucky was questioning whether he could still feel his face by the time he stepped through the park gate. Steve was already there with two paper cups and a grey-and-blue striped beanie pulled down over his hair.

“Hey,” Steve greeted him with a kiss, “peppermint mocha?”

Bucky hummed, taking a long sip from the cup. “Sorry. Dugan was pretty sure there was treasure buried in a snow bank a block back. We didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long.” 

“Digs is pretty smart, you know. He might’ve been right.”

Hanukkah started on Christmas Eve this year and they decided to throw a joint party at Steve’s (he was the one with roof access, after all) and between them, there were two dozen of their friends and family coming by to celebrate.

“Not smart enough, he hasn’t figured out yet that Monty left all his ingredients at my place. He’s coming by early to prep what he needs to cause I’ll be setting up with you so he’ll have all the kitchen space he needs.”

Steve laughed. “I didn’t realize he and Peggy had flown in already.”

“And Natasha and Becca get here tomorrow.” Steve hadn’t met Bucky’s sisters yet, but he was anxious for the three of them to meet.

“You must be excited.” Steve squeezed his hand. “I know you haven’t seen them since you left Indiana.”

“Not in person, no.”

Someone was having a holiday party nearby; if he strained, Bucky could hear what he was pretty sure was Mariah Carey. _All I want for Christmas is you_. He was feeling sentimental enough to take it as a sign that it was the perfect time to ask Steve to move in.

“I hope they like me.”

“Steve. They’re going to love you. Everyone loves you.” 

“Mm. I did get grumpy you to love me, you know.” 

“Exactly." 

“I just – I want them to like me, but I want them to be happy that…” Steve shrugged, “I don’t know, that I am who I am to you, I guess.”

“From what I’ve told them, they don’t actually think you’re real. I think that’s why they’re coming out here; not because they miss me, but because they think I’m making you up.”

It hadn’t yet worked out that Steve was around when Bucky’s sisters could Skype. They teased that Steve was Bucky’s boyfriend from the internet or Canada or something that was too busy being Not Real to come to the phone or Skpye call.

Steve fidgeted.

“-Steve. It’s ok, they’re going to love you. They already think that you’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“That’s just it. I don’t-“ Steve sighed, and Bucky was pretty sure he was going to faint. 

Steve didn’t want that. Him. Steve cut off Bucky’s internal panic. 

And knelt down in the snow. Bucky was pretty sure he was going to faint for an entirely different reason now.

“I know it’s going to sound corny but I’m pretty sure I can hear Mariah Carey blaring from like a block away and if that’s not a sign from the universe then I don’t know what is. But you were the Christmas miracle that came out of nowhere two years ago when I felt my lowest and didn’t do anything but offer to be there and didn’t pressure me _ever_ and I just-“ Steve fumbled in his pocket, producing a simple white gold band. “-I want you around always and I know you say they like the sound of me as your boyfriend but I’m really hoping they like me as your fiancé.”

Yes. Bucky was probably going to faint. And he was probably not going to stop smiling. “They’re going to have to, I’m not marrying anyone else but you.”

Steve managed to get the ring on Bucky’s finger and pick him up off his feet into a crushing hug and deep kiss in nearly one smooth motion.

Bucky still couldn’t feel his face, but now he was pretty sure it was because he couldn’t stop smiling.


End file.
